Try
by ohboraborabora
Summary: Ever since Sam decided not to attend Stanford, John and Dean notice that Sam has started to fade away. Depressed/Hurt/Sam, Protective/Hurt/Dean, Remorseful/John, Pre-series, Swearing


Just something that's been in my head for a while that I wanted to get out.

*Obviously I own nothing.

Enjoy :)

As Sam stood at the edge of the cliff outside of the cabin they had been staying in, the gravity of his life, of the life that he was forced to live, made him want to leave this place for good. It made him want to jump, and throw his possessions to the wind and be done with this world.

But he could never do that to Dean.

He could do it to his father, but never Dean. The past few months had been difficult. Choosing to stay with his father and Dean, and turning Stanford down had been one of the hardest decisions he's ever had to make. But the look in Dean's eyes the night his father gave him the ultimatum to stay or leave forever, gave him little choice in the matter.

Dean could see his brother deteriorating daily. Every day he would sleep for just a little longer, eat a little less, and barely speak. Sam had been his kid since that fateful day of the fire that killed their mother and destroyed any chance of them having a normal life. Dean just wished Sam could see that this was their life for better or for worse.

-0-

"Dad, I have been given this opportunity for something better. For something more than just hunting! Can't you see that?"

"So what Sam, hunting, saving people isn't good enough for you anymore?" You would rather waste your time next rich little brats? Fine, you know what same leave." John huffed, and had to put a hand on the table leverage his weight.

"But if you leave, don't come back."

The words tasted bitter as John Winchester stared venomously at his youngest son. The son that just couldn't understand the importance of what they did.

Silence filled the air as Sam stared at him, looking back and forth between Dean and John.

Sam waited desperately, for Dean to say anything. But they look on his face said it all. Stay.

Broken and resigned to his fate, Sam slowly bent down got his duffel and walked to the tiny bedroom he had been sharing with his brother. Slowly, closing the door.

-0-

Time pasted rather quickly for the Winchester trio. Soon the summer had turned into fall, and it seemed things were settling into a quite rhythm for the Winchesters.

Usually, John would find them a hunt. Dean would enthusiastically speculate with John the possibilities while Sam researched. Sam would present his research, John would put in his two cents on the research and away they would go to kill the evil that plagued the world.

John focused solely on the hunt. It was easier for him to focus on the hunt, than face the reality of what he had done to his son.

Sam had turned into a shell of a man, and John knew that was his doing.

"Sam, get up were here." Dean bellowed as the pristine Chevy Impala came to a standstill in the deserted meadow.

Slowly, Sam made his way to standing as he exited the vehicle. It felt like every bone in his body protested the movement and made themselves known by cracking and stretching.

"Come on old man, we got work to do. Dad said he's about 10 minutes away, but to go ahead without him. We'll meet at the opening of the cave, and wait for him there."

Without saying a word, Sam agreed and began getting the supplies from the trunk.

Dean watch cautiously as Sam went to retrieve the materials they needed. He had been hoping that the old man crack would have been enough to get a smile out of his baby brother, but he had just been met with the silence that had seemed to engulf Sam over the months.

Dean knew he was losing him. Dad wanted so badly to hold on to Sam, to keep him with us, but at the cost it was taking, it just wasn't worth it. Lately, Sam seemed to be working on auto pilot. He moved, and did what was expected. But it seemed like no one was home. Sam didn't seem to have any interest. He did just enough to keep his father off his back, and when he was gone, he just slept until it was time for his next order.

"Dean, you ready to go?"

"Yeah dude, let's go."

As the boys made their way through the dense forest shotguns in hands, but kept their ears open. Even though it was still day light, Spirit Foxes are tricky creatures. It would be a fool's end to think that one wasn't lurking in the woods just cause it wasn't it M.O. The plan had been to regroup with John at the opening of the caves, near where the last set of remains had been found. And that's exactly what they were doing.

Trekking through the dense brush and bug infested woods hadn't been easy but eventually they made it to the caverns opening, and in great time.

"Well, we got here a lot faster, than I think Dad thought it was going to take. Why don't we look around for tracks or any sign of activity."

Again Dean was met with silence, but took to it that Sam understood as he immediately began looking at the ground for tracks.

"Sam, you know you can talk to me right? I mean, I know that things have been rough for you and all because of the whole Stanford thing, but you can tell if something is not okay."

Sam immediately cringed when he heard Stanford. That word had not been said aloud since the night he had decided to stay, and even after all this time it still stung with a ferocity that felt like it could destroy him.

"Please Sam,…" Dean begged as both men had given up on looking for signs of activity and now stood a few feet away staring at each other.

"Dean… There's nothing to say…. I mean I'm trying. I'm trying to be okay. I'm trying to function. To be what Dad wants me to be. I'm trying, I swear I am."

Dean was struck at the sincerity and the raw emotion that laced his younger brother's voice. He sounded raw, the way you expect someone to sound if their vocal cords hadn't been used in a while.

"Okay,… if there is anything I can do, and I mean anything, you let me …

Before Dean could finish that statement, he was hit by something from behind. The Fox had apparently woken up and decided and a meal had just become available outside of the cave.

Before Dean had a chance to turn over and grab his gun, he felt its razor sharp claws dig into his back, and then more weight.

Sam sprang into action and wasted no time with jumping onto the fox and Dean attacking back. The next minute was a mix of claws and blades as Sam attacked it with the knife he held in his waistband, long forgetting the shotgun he once had.

The battle ended with a shotgun blast, killing the Spirit Fox. As John ran, emerging from the brush. He quickly took his place next to his sons. Dean groaned in pain but sat up and immediately went nelt next to his fallen brother.

"Sam, come on son, open your eyes. SAM, that is an order."

"Dad! Lay off him."

"Come on Sam, please Sam, please!."

That did it, blearily Sam began to open his eyes. Slowly letting the setting sun in. As he become aware, his father and brother's worried faces came into view.

Unable to control his emotions, John grabbed his boy and held him close. He knew that he needed to check for injuries, but in that moment Sam was alive. The hug was months of emotions building up. The night Sam had decided to stay, he wanted to hold Sam and thank him, tell him he loved him, and appreciated him. But nothing had been said, and instead John lost himself in a bottle of whiskey, and Sam just lost himself.

Dean watched the exchange, and couldn't help but feel sad as he watched the two closest to him embrace. Even though it seemed John was invested in the moment, Sam seemed detached, and unmoved. Sam's eyes watched his father during the embrace, as if he didn't trust him. As if he was waiting for something terrible to happen.

Dean grabbed his brothers hand as the men got up, and made their way to their awaiting vehicles. Sam had been too old and too big to carry for years, but he didn't argue or say anything as his father gently lifted with Dean's assistance.

The entire trek took little over an hour and had all of the men exhausted by the time they had made their way to the vehicles.

The scratches covering Sam varied in deepness, but the bleeding seemed to have slowed over the past hour. Blood loss and infection seemed to be at the top of the list of concerns, but for now all that could wait until they made it back to the cabin.

Dean paid virtually no attention to the lined his back. Although he did need some medical attention. His focus was solely on his brother. As John passed Sam to Dean in the backseat, he made a silent promise to help Sam get through this patch of… well whatever it was… depression, hatred of their lives, whatever it was they would fight it together.

John took his place in the front seat of the Impala with the intention to retrieve his truck later. Watching his boys in the back, worry crept up in his thought as he realized Sam hadn't seemed to say a single, and had completely checked out.

As Sam was layed out, seemingly asleep. John and Dean stared at their youngest, fear and pain making themselves known to the men.

"Dad…."

"Dean, I know,… you don't have to say it. I know I fuck up. I know this is on me. I've made a horrible mistake, and I know that it's gonna take more than a heartfelt apology to get him back. But… I'll do whatever it takes, to get that boy back, even if it means losing him to collage. I'll do it."

Dean looked at his father with remorse, as the words settled in. As easy as it was to blame his father, he knew he had played a part in all this. He knew he had as much, if not more blood on his hands. Sam counted on him. Sam needed Dean to tell him to go that night, to tell him he was proud, but instead he had been met with silence.

As Sam moaned, and began to show signs of waking both of the older Winchesters sat at the edge of his bed coaxing him back to reality.

"Come on Sam, that's it. Time to wake up." Dean cooed.

Brushing a stray hair from Sam's face, Sam scrunched his nose, and slowly opened his eyes to his concerned family.

"Hey buddy, nice of you to finally join us." John smiled as his sons eyes searched the room and their faces, trying to remember the events that led him here.

"Sam…" John said hesitantly, trying to be gentle and lacing his voice with concern. He wanted to get out what he had to say before same drifted off again.

"I know I haven't been fair to you these past few months."

"I know that I haven't been the father that you need. I've been dragging you around your entire life, and lately, I've felt you fading away, and well… I panicked and I made some bad decisions,… and I well.."

John seemed at a lost for words as he stared in Sam's bright green eyes, trying to express how sorry he was, and how ashamed really he was.

"Look, I'm sorry. I know I don't know what I can do but I swear I'll make this right."

"This whole not talking thing doesn't seem to be working for any of us."

Dean nodded his head, as he agreed with his remorseful father.

"I don't know if you still want to go to school, but if you do, we'll figure it out together, okay?"

At that Sam seemed to perk up, and looked at his father searching for signs of lying, but all he saw was a man that seemed just as broken as he was.

"Sam, I think what Dad's trying to say, is that we are scared to death of losing you, and well it would be nice to have the old you back."

"I can try." Sam said softly, accepting the gesture for what it was. If his father was willing try so was he. He could try to relate positevly to his surroundings. He could try to talk about the internal turmoil he was in, instead of shutting the word out, and living in his head.

Both men nodded happily, and held on to Sam like a raft in a storm. They may be going through one hell of a storm, but with Sam there with them, it didn't seem so impossible to survive.

The End.


End file.
